unironedman

It is counter-intuitive for any of us who have ever run a race, but there is one running competition where in order to win, you must finish last. It does seem, on the face of it, like some manner of cunning riddle that Gollum may have pitched to Bilbo Baggins in the caves under the Misty Mountains.

Seasoned trail runners and canny long distance folk will have already solved this puzzle, no doubt. I am referring to the Backyard Ultra. If you know all about this event, then you can probably skip on down a bit. For the rest of you cheery folk, here is the background to the, uh, backyard…

The race was devised by Gary Cantrell, who trades under the name of Lazarus Lake. Gary has devised numerous trail running events. His first creation was a forty plus miler in his home state of Tennessee in 1979, and he did so because there simply weren’t any ultramarathons around at the time.

In 1986, he introduced the world to the Barkley Marathons. The stories swirling around this epic event are as numerous as the various weird and wonderful ‘rules’ that apply to runners who wish to enter. These include writing a letter stating why you think you should be allowed to run, a fee of $1.60, plus other assorted items, depending (it is understood) on the needs of Gary at the time. So that might be a pair of socks, if you make it past the first hurdle. Indeed, it would seem to be harder to gain entry than actually run, though I type that from the comfort of my lounge as I tap away on my laptop.

The race begins when Gary says it begins, and there is no set time for that. And the 35 runners from around the world set off when he lights a cigarette. I gather he smokes Camel, by the way, should you ever find yourself in that situation. After that, you are literally on your own, and ahead of you are five loops of twenty miles plus in some of the toughest trail-running conditions around, with cut-off times that fall like a guillotine in the Place de la Revolution. Most don’t finish. Their consolation is to have ‘Taps’ played to them on the bugle. But speaking of finishing, or not, let us return to the Backyard Ultra.

Not content with devising a race that ‘eats its own young’ (Trail Runner magazine called Lake an “evil genius,” “The Leonardo da Vinci of pain,” “A master of sadomasochistic craft.”), he came up with the Backyard idea in 2011. The first one, fittingly, was in his own backyard. He named it after his dog, Big. Which I think is cool.

The idea is both simple and cunning. Take a 100 mile race – a classic ultra distance. Take 24 hours – the number of hours in a day. Divide the first by the second. The answer is 4.167, or the distance, in miles, you must cover each hour in order to complete 100 miles in one day. But of course, there is a catch. And the catch is gloriously simple. You can finish your four plus mile loop in any time you like, as long as you toe the start line again on the hour. And then you do it all again. And again. And again. Until there is only one runner left.

For many of us normal running folk, the pace is pedestrian. Four odd miles is about 6.7 kilometres. A reasonable training run might see us cover 10k over 60 minutes. But of course the real trial is to be able to set yourself up to go again, and keep going. It’s the Chinese water torture of ultra running.

The winner in 2011 managed a modest 18 laps. (which is 75 miles, by the way). By 2017, it had risen to 59 laps. No doubt, the athletes had got their head around the idea. The best approach was to complete your lap between 45 and 50 minutes, giving you time to grab some food, go to the loo, or even have a very brief power nap. Two years later, Katie Wright became the first woman to win a backyard outright, with 125 miles over 30 hours.

Backyards have sprung up all over the world, but fittingly, the current record was set at the original race location in Bell Buckle last year by Harvey Lewis with 108 loops. Which is 450 miles. And speaking of unusual running feats, it would be remiss of us not to salute one Eugene Estoppey, who ran 1,000 miles by running one mile every hour, on the hour. A sort of extended backyard event. Estoppey managed his amazing achievement in 1910, in California, and nobody, as far as we know, has ever tried such a thing since. Read more about it here.

It would be about this point in the conversation that running folks who know me, like Gary and Mark, would say ‘so, I guess this means you are going to do a backyard ultra, then?’

Well, no. Certainly not on the wish list. I suppose my current wish list is really quite short and simple: get back out running. Any kind of running. A thousand miles? I would settle for one right now.

[There are a few backyard options on our fair isle, so yes, I have checked 😉 There would appear to be one per province, giving four altogether for now. There’s one in Glencullen, and it is supposed to be one of the rockiest and roughest backyards around. Having passed through some of this terrain in preparation for, and taking on, the Wicklow Way, I can see why it would be quite the challenge. If I ever did take on one of these nutty runs, I can only envisage myself doing so under the cover of green, leafy trees, and along flat paths. The damn thing would be difficult enough already without adding rough terrain and elevation to your problems.]

Not too much other news to report. Part of the reason why I have been rabbiting on about backyard ultras and the like is because I have been watching a few documentaries on YouTube; backyards, hundred milers, two hundred milers. It’s my vicarious pleasure. There are simply too many for me to mention, and I guess if they’re your thing, then you’ve probably watched a few already. They are all professionally put together with no expense spared. The drone footage alone would grace any Hollywood movie. I’m taking some notes for my next film, whenever that happens, but I don’t think the budget will stretch to drones…

We did have a few hours of snow on the 1st of March, which was all rather lovely and unexpected (it even caught the national met office unawares). Sadly, it was short-lived. I felt especially for the kids in school who waited patiently for the bell to ring, only to see the rain come down in sheets after several hours of soft, wet snow that had promised so much fun. I managed little more than a few photos. My own plans to enjoy the rare spectacle in the park were scuppered by the rain too.

Poor Saoirse has been sick in bed for the last three or four days, so we now have two invalids under the one roof. This one-armed bandit has been trying to repay the kindness shown to me over the last month by cooking and cleaning as best I can. Hopefully I don’t succumb to the same infections, or it will be a sorry state of affairs altogether.

And to finish off with, in these troubled times; my very talented cousin has written this powerful piece of music, which has been set to film. Powerful message too. Check it out.